


Rain

by illgiveyouallofme



Category: Anthony DiNozzo/Ziva David - Fandom, NCIS, tiva - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Reunion, Some angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-11
Updated: 2015-02-11
Packaged: 2018-03-11 21:51:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3334127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/illgiveyouallofme/pseuds/illgiveyouallofme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a difficult day at the office, Tony returns to his apartment to find that it isn't as empty as when he left it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rain

Tony awoke to the sound of rain, and the slight breeze coming in from the open window. Still half-asleep, he couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes; the only thought on his mind was the word “soft.” And all around him, it was soft: the softness of the pillow underneath his head, the softness of the satin sheets, and the softness of her skin right in front of him. Deciding that his current reality was better than any dream he could have, Tony finally opened his eyes and took in the perfect sight of Ziva’s bare back, her silken curves finally underneath his much rougher hands. She looked so peaceful snuggled there next to him. Nothing like when he found her in his apartment last night…

It had been a hard day at work, but lately, every day was hard. They finally wrapped up a case that consumed their lives for the better part of two months, and the team breathed a collective sigh of relief. The latest nightmare was over. The domestic terrorist stopped, the world safe again—if only for that one brief moment. And though he knew he shouldn’t, Tony couldn’t help but sneak a quick glance at the desk across from him, looking for the shared congratulatory smile that still meant so much to him. He found a smile there, but not on the lips of the dark-haired beauty that he still dreamt about, after all this time.

These days, Tony tried not to look at that desk as much as possible. Every glance at Bishop just reminded Tony of what wasn’t—and what should have been. He liked the kid, sure, but she just...she just wasn’t Ziva. She wasn’t his.

Had anyone asked him afterwards, Tony would have sworn that he knew someone was in his apartment from the second he stepped inside. But after all this time, her Mossad training was still too much a part of Ziva for her to leave visible any trace. No, the first thing Tony noticed upon entering his apartment that night wasn’t visible at all, it was a smell. Lemongrass, sandalwood and vanilla, just the barest trace.

_Ziva_.

Taking a deep breath, Tony closed his eyes and wondered if he conjured up the smell of her, just like when he ‘saw’ her at the coffee shop two months ago and ‘heard’ her voice in the Squad Room yesterday. But this time he couldn’t convince himself that this was just his longing, as he re-familiarized himself with the scent of her shampoo, he heard her pacing around his bedroom, muttering to herself in one—two?—foreign languages. He paused, his NCIS training briefly warring with his certainty that this was Ziva, retuning to him at last, but eventually his cautious side won out. His hand slipped to his holstered gun, and he crept towards the closed door of his bedroom, all the while berating himself for preparing to draw a gun on the woman he loved—and a trained assassin no less.

Slowly, silently, he turned the handle and pushed open the door. Alert as ever, Ziva instantly froze. It seemed as though all the air had left the room, as they looked at each other for the first time in eight months, illuminated only by the city below.

They looked at each other forever, drinking in the sight, neither saying a word. Tony knew she was waiting for him to take the first step forward, when in reality, their journey had begun a long time ago, with the words “Count to a million.” They’d been taking steps toward each other ever since. Even in the separation, the silence, the distance, Tony had felt Ziva’s presence every day, and her return proved to him once and for all that she felt his too. So he took that first step.

Suddenly, the tension broke and they were in each other’s arms. His lips found hers in the darkness and refused to let them go. All the tension from the case, from the paperwork he still needed to file and the people he worried about left him, banished by the feel of her in his arms after all this time. They had to talk, he knew, but this was no time for rationality. No, he had Ziva where he’d been dreaming about her, and he was intent on showing her exactly how much he missed her.

They collapsed onto the bed, entangled limbs falling less than gracefully, eliciting a deep chuckle from Tony and a breathless laugh from Ziva. He looked into her eyes and saw there the same need he was feeling, the same want for physical closeness, for love. The rest, the complications and logistics and declaration of feelings, that could all wait until morning. Tonight they allowed their bodies to talk, and did so with the perfect harmony of partners. Never quite the strong, silent type, Tony couldn’t help himself from saying one line, “This time, that definitely wasn’t my knee.”

Hours later, the sound of Ziva’s not-so-soft snores lulled Tony into a deep sleep, as rain started to fall lightly outside.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this one ages ago, but never posted it. 
> 
> I can be found on tumblr as illgiveyouallofme


End file.
